


Hey, u up?

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Binge Drinking, Booty Calls, Cuter than it sounds, Drunk Tony, Insecure Tony, M/M, Matchmaker Bucky, Meet-Awkward, Meet-Cute, Protective Steve, Start Of Something Sweet, Wrong number, hot mess tony, non-consensual drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 07:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18960775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Tony's plastered, and all he wants is to hook up with his ex-boyfriend, Ty. Sure, he deleted his number from his phone, but he has an elephant's memory, even wasted. No problem.





	Hey, u up?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabrecmc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Эй, пошалим?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21744262) by [Liraira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liraira/pseuds/Liraira)



> This is for sabre cause she made me write it while I was drunk. The texts are authentic drunk-Ferret. Thank you to fan for the prompting idea. And a big thank you to sadie for beta!

Six shots in, and Tony was not above a booty call - er text - to his ex.

_ Heeeyyy. U upp? _

When Ty didn't answer immediately, Tony went back out to the dance floor. The music was almost painfully loud and the bones in his chest vibrated with the bass line. He let the gyrating bodies roll him around like an ocean tide, loose and easy, going with the flow. His skin was flushed and damp with sweat and the room was spinning a little, his eyes struggling to focus on anything completely.

He spun and shifted and let the crowd bustle him this way and that until he found himself tumbling back out of the dancers. He grabbed the back of a chair to steady himself and tripped his way back over to where he picked Rhodey's head out of the blurry mass.

"Rhodeyyy," he whined.

Rhodey caught him by the shoulder and pulled him in close, supporting at least half his weight. "You're plastered, bud." Rhodey was slurring almost as badly as he was.

"Takes one to know one." Tony knew he was pouting but he couldn't help it. "Ty won't text me back."

"You texted,  _ Ty?  _ Tony, what the fuck? I thought you deleted his number?"

"I did." Tony tapped his forehead. "Can't delete it from my mind, though."

**

Steve rolled over in bed and rubbed his face across the pillow.  _ Please don't be four am,  _ he thought as hard as he could.  _ Please.  _

He peeled one eye open and half sat up to look at the clock. 2:00. "Shit." He'd only gone to bed two hours ago, how was he awake already?

_ Bzzzzt. _

Oh, that was why. He'd forgotten to turn his phone off. Steve fumbled with his bedside table until he got his phone in his hand and tugged the charger out of the end. He turned it on and blinked into the light. There were two texts from an unknown number. 

_ Heeeyyy. U upp? _

_ Comeeee on . I'm loenyly ??? _

Steve blinked at his phone for a moment, trying to process what he was seeing, but all he could come up with was that some random wrong number was trying to booty call him. 

_ Who is this?  _ he texted back, regretting it almost immediately. He should just block the number and be done with it, but it was two in the morning and he was solidly awake now. Plus he had to pee. He slipped out of bed and took his phone with him as he hit the bathroom then shuffled out into the living room and collapsed on the couch with a grunt. 

"What are you doing up?" Bucky asked from his desk in the corner where he was firing some sort of plasma weapon at an alien on his screen.

"I got a text from a wrong number and it woke me up." 

"That sucks." Bucky clicked furiously then hissed, "Dude, I'm on your team!" through his headset.

Steve's phone chimed in his hand and he tipped it up to look at the screen.

_ Its' d TOny ocme on man, I'm horny af. _

Steve swallowed heavily as blood shot south at the thought. No one had ever booty called him on purpose, and he'd never really thought about it before, but the idea was pretty tantalizing. A meet-up just for sex, nothing more than body and body, late at night, a little drunk, a little sloppy. He cleared his throat and was typing out a firm but polite reply about wrong numbers when another text came through. One with a picture attached.

"Oh," Steve squeaked, and Bucky leaned back in his chair. 

"What?"

"Wow. This guy is stupid hot. Shit."

"The wrong number?"

"Yeah." Steve turned the phone towards Bucky who whistled and leaned in to get a better look. 

"Is he at a club? Or do you think that's an old selfie?"

"No, I'm pretty sure that's from right now."

"Text him back." Bucky's computer made a noise and he twisted back to it, while Steve stared down at his phone.

_ Sorry, you've got a wrong number. Are you okay? You seem pretty drunk. _

It was only a moment before Tony texted back.  _ Tyyyyyyyyyyy jsut let me fcom e over. _

_ This isn't Ty. It's Steve. _

_ Who sTecve? _

_ I'm Steve. You texted me.  _

_ Oh. Why'd I gtevt you? _

_ I honestly don't know. _

_ Ssend me a pic. _

Steve read the text then tossed his phone back to the couch cushions with a nervous rush of adrenaline. That was a bad idea. He turned the TV on and slumped low. He wanted to be mad at Tony for waking him up, but the truth was, it was his fault for not turning his phone off like he usually did. 

The cushion bounced next to him, and Bucky flopped across the other side of the couch, catching Steve in the ribs with his heel.

"Oof! Get off." Steve shoved him back to his side, and Bucky grunted and lifted his hips up, pulling Steve's phone out from under his butt. 

He poked around on Steve's phone, while Steve turned his attention back to the TV, watching some talk show rerun where a vaguely familiar looking celebrity was learning to cook pumpkin pie with another vaguely familiar looking celebrity.

Then he heard the click of a photo being taken.

"Buck?" Steve glared at the phone pointed in his direction. "Did you just take my picture?"

"Yeah. You need to text hot, drunk guy back."

"What?! No!" Steve launched himself at the phone, but Bucky shot off the couch and skittered a few steps away. "Give that back!"

"Steve, you are young, and hot, and very sexually frustrated if the rate at which we go through tissue boxes is any indicator and this is the perfect time to practice flirting because it's all very safe. If things get weird you can just block him." Bucky finished typing something then stopped dancing out of Steve's way and tossed his phone back to him. 

Steve caught it out of the air and turned it over, anxiety churning in his veins. 

_ Whoa shit,  _ Tony had texted back after Bucky had sent Steve's picture. And to Bucky's credit, it  _ was  _ a pretty flattering shot.  _ Please tell me your girlfriend didn't take that. _

_ My roommate did. I don't have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. _

_ Oh goood. ur hot. _

_ Thank you.  _ Steve couldn't help smiling down at his phone. He looked up again to catch Bucky grinning at him, like a cat with his cream, so Steve flipped him off and collapsed back on the couch, curled around his phone.  _ So who's Ty? _

_ Ex bf _

_ Oh. Should you really be texting your ex drunk? _

_ Nahhhh rhodey sats the same thing. But whavetecer I jsut enned someone to hang tiwiht, yu know? And ty suualyl will. As long as i hut out. _

Steve frowned.  _ If he'll only hang out with you if you put out, it's probably a good thing you broke up. _

_ Oh nooo I'm like super hortny. So i tototally would. _

_ Hey, Tony? Where's Rhodey? Is he sober? _

_ Not in the sligtnysest. I thikn he's leaving. He found a girl to take home. She seems niiice. Blonkd like you. U coming to get me? _

_ No, Tony, I can't. I don't even know if we're in the same state. Go home with Rhodey. _

_ Ew no. he my best friend. That woyuld be weird. _

_ I don't mean like that. I mean, get a ride home with your friend. You're too drunk. _

Another picture message came through. Tony was leaning in close to the camera, his eyes wide and unfocused, but the reflection of the club lights in the soft brown still made Steve's heart skip a beat. His hair was wild, flopping onto his sweat-sheened forehead, and Steve pictured him dancing, hips swaying, smiling and moving without a care in the world. God, he had it bad already, just from five minutes of texting and two pictures. 

_ I'm at leorys _ __   
_ Leaornes _ _   
_ __ L orneys

_ Lorne's?  _ Steve tried. Shit, that was just three blocks over from his apartment. 

_ Yes! How did you know? _

_ Huh. I actually live really nearby. _

_ Comeeeee ovnerrr stevebe! Rhodey's leaving and ti hdon't wnt to dance alonge. _

_ Don't let Rhodey leave without you! _

There was a gap of a few minutes, and Steve prayed silently that Tony had left the club with Rhodey. But to his dismay, almost five minutes later, Steve got another three picture messages in a row, all selfies of Tony out on the dance floor with the final caption  _ dancce with mE!! _

"Shit."

"What's wrong now?" Bucky asked.

"He's at Lorne's, super drunk, and as far as I can tell, his only friend left and now he's there alone."

"Hmm." Bucky turned from his game. "That's not a super safe neighbourhood for him to try and navigate drunk."

Steve bounced in his seat for a moment, eyes fixed on his phone. He should really try and go back to sleep, but he knew he'd be stuck awake, thinking about Tony, worried about him. Maybe it was fate that had Tony texting his number by mistake. Maybe this guy needed someone looking out for him. "I think I should go take him home."

"Yeah!" Bucky cheered. "Get it, boy."

"Not like that! God, Bucky, he's totally wasted. I just mean, he needs someone to get him home safely, and he's not that far away."

Bucky chuckled. "Yeah, I know. You're a saint, Stevie. Be careful. You want me to come with?"

"Nah, it's fine. I'll walk over and dump him in an Uber and come right back. Maybe there'll even be someone in his phone I can call to come check on him."

Bucky fished Steve's keys out of the dish on his desk and tossed them over. "I'll stay up til you get back."

"Thanks."

Outside, the air was hot and muggy, almost oppressive. It was pushing three in the morning, but there was still a lot going on in the neighbourhood: people out on patios, smoking, rumbling basslines of clubs and bars. Steve shoved his hands in his pocket and weaved between stumbling girls in too-high heels, as he made his way down the street to Lorne's. It managed to be a karaoke bar during the week and a gay nightclub on weekends. No one knew if they intended it to be that way, or it was just how people used it, but they didn't seem to mind because it had been a neighbourhood institution for a long time now. 

Steve slipped inside. It was even hotter down in the heavy dark, with the lights and the sweaty dancers. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, then Steve started wandering through the crowds, looking for a now-familiar mess of hair, lean shoulders, and his red t-shirt.

Tony wasn't on the dance floor, or in any of the booths, but as Steve took another pass along the bar, he caught sight of him. The bar curved at the end, touching back to the wall, and on the short side of it, in the shadows, almost tucked away, sat Tony and another man. Their heads were leaned in close together and there were empty shot glasses littering the bar next to their elbows. Maybe this was Rhodey, he hadn't left after all, but Steve didn't like something about the tableau and he pushed his way through the people to get a better look. 

While he watched, Tony dipped forward until his head pressed against the chest of the other man, and Steve almost stopped, almost turned and left, but then the man lifted Tony's chin up and picked up a full shot glass, tilting the edge against his lips.

Steve rocketed across the floor and smacked the glass out of his hands, before Tony could drink. Now that he was up close, he could see the other man wasn't anywhere near as drunk as Tony was, and Tony was worse than when he'd last texted Steve, barely able to focus his eyes let alone type on a phone.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Steve growled, shoving himself in between them until the other man had to slip backwards off his bar stool or risk being knocked to the ground. "If he can't lift the glass himself, I'd say he's had enough."

"Fuck off, man, we're just having fun. Tony, you're having fun, right?"

Tony mumbled something, and Steve felt him slip forward against Steve's back, face pressed between his shoulder blades. He reached back and caught Tony's wrist, holding on tight so he'd feel it if he started to fall. 

"He's way too drunk to be having fun. Go home or I'll have words with security."

"Fuck you!" The guy flipped Steve off then marched away, knocking people out of the way with sharp elbows. Steve turned, maneuvering Tony's limp body against his chest, but kept his eyes on the other guy until he disappeared out of the door and onto the street. 

"Hey, Tony." Steve sat on the bar stool the other guy had vacated and took Tony by both shoulders, sitting him up. "You okay?"

"Danncceee with meee," Tony slurred, grinning. "Hot phone guy. Steve."

Steve smiled. "Oh good. You recognize me."

Tony giggled, and Steve couldn't help laughing too. This was absurd. But Tony was even hotter in person, and even sweeter. Steve really hoped some day he could meet him sober. 

"I'm going to take you home. Come on!" Steve hooked an arm around Tony's waist and hauled him up to his feet, then shuffled him along the edge of the bar until he found the door. The stairs were a bit of a challenge, but finally he managed to get them both up and out and had Tony propped up against the brick wall. The hot summer air felt cool after the heavy humidity of the club and they both took a deep breath in. Steve opened the Uber app on his phone. "Where do you live?"

"New York!" Tony announced, throwing his arms in the air. "The newwwest of yorks."

"Good start. Can you be a bit more specific?"

"Two, one, two…."

"Yes?"

"Two, one, two… five, five, five - New York?" Tony tried.

"That's... your phone number, sweetheart. Come on, your address. Even a street would be a good place to start."

"I think -"

"Yes?"

"I think your nose is a good place to start," Tony announced, slumping forward without warning and catching himself against Steve's chest. He stroked a finger down Steve's nose. "Still horny."

"I know. But you are way too drunk to do anything but sleep right now. Don't you want to go to bed?"

"Yes pleaseeee." Tony seemed to be trying to wink with both eyes at once, but slightly off-kilter from each other. 

When Tony continued to prove unforthcoming with his address, Steve dug around in Tony's pockets until he found his wallet and his phone and started rummaging, looking for a clue to where Tony lived. The address on his driver's license was in LA so that was no use. None of his other cards had addresses, though he did have several extremely high-end credit cards with the name Tony Stark.

His phone was locked, and he wouldn't unlock it, either unwilling or too confused by Steve's request. After ten minutes of trying to get Tony home, Steve gave up. "Alright, you're coming with me then. You can sleep it off and I'll call you an Uber when you can remember where you live."

"Hey, hot phone guy?" Tony asked, while they waited for their driver. There was no way Steve was getting Tony the three blocks back to his place on foot. 

"Yeah?"

Tony's voice dropped low and soft. "I think I love you."

Steve smiled. "That's very sweet. Come on, bud." 

The car pulled up to the curb and Steve poured Tony in then crawled in after. He gave his address and texted Bucky to meet them outside to give him a hand. The drive was only a few minutes, and thankfully, Tony showed no signs of being sick, though his skin was getting a pale green waxy look to it. Steve wasn't surprised when Tony turned and wretched against the side of the building as soon as they stepped out of the car.

"What's he doing  _ here?"  _ Bucky asked as he appeared out of the building's side door, Steve's flip flops on his feet and his keys in his hand. "I thought you were sending him home."

"He's too drunk to even tell me where he lives. I  caught some asshole feeding him shots and he barely knows his own name."

"Shit."

They let Tony throw up then helped him up the few flights of stairs to their apartment. 

"Put him in my room," Steve said, as they shuffled awkwardly through the door like a four-legged race. "If he throws up on the couch, we'll never get it out, but I have a dust case on my mattress and I can just wash my sheets. Or burn them."

"Okay." Bucky hauled Tony back up from where he was slipping down to the floor and they got him into bed. Steve untied his shoes and pulled them off. 

"Is he going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. He's still conscious, breathing okay, and he's not cold." Bucky placed a hand on Tony's forehead and nodded, smiling when Tony blinked his eyes open and grinned at him. "Don't die, okay?" Bucky bent down to say.

"Okay. Can I sleep now?"

"You have to drink some water first."

Tony waved one hand around in request and Steve handed over his water bottle. Bucky propped Tony up with one hand and Tony drank deeply from the bottle, only spilling a little bit down his face. Bucky let him flop down again. 

"He'll be fine. I'm going to bed." Bucky clapped Steve on the shoulder as he walked past, and Steve heard him locking the door and flicking off the lights before his bedroom door opened and closed. 

Steve crouched down at Tony's bedside and watched his chest rise and fall. He was sleeping, breathing evenly, not passed out, so Steve had to hope he was going to be alright. He put a trash bin next to the bed, just in case, refilled the water bottle and left it on the bedside table with Tony's wallet and phone, then left to go sleep on the couch. He left the bedroom door cracked just in case.

**

Tony woke up feeling like a desert had crawled into his mouth in the night and died. He was in an unfamiliar bed - not unusual - but alone - fairly unusual.

He knocked back half the water bottle someone had left by the bed and moved very slowly and carefully. When standing didn't set off a chain reaction of nausea, he was pretty confident nothing new would be coming up, so he shoved his wallet and phone in his pockets and found his way first into the bathroom to rinse his mouth with toothpaste, and then into the living room. There was a familiar looking guy sprawled out on the couch, a blanket barely covering his calves and an awkward stack of pillows behind his head. He'd clearly slept out here, despite taking Tony home, but he was awake now. 

"Hey," Tony tried, voice raspy, and the guy's eyes snapped from the TV to Tony.

"Hey." He sat up - and wow that was a nice, very naked chest. "How you feeling?"

"Fine. Okay. good, even. Oddly -" Tony looked down at himself "- dressed though. And alone. So… whatever I did to turn you off between the club and here, my apologies. It was probably vomit, wasn't it? I bet it was. Did I get your shoes? Sorry."

"What? No. I - That's not what happened. I mean, you did throw up, in the alley beside my building. But I just came to the club to pick you up."

"Well, sorry it didn't work out so great for you."

"No! Not that kind of - Tony, you texted me by mistake last night. You were trying to booty call your ex, or something. We texted a bit and when it became clear you were very drunk and all alone, I went down to the club to get you in a cab. But then you couldn't remember where you lived and there was nothing helpful in your wallet, so I brought you back here to sleep it off. I can call you that cab now…"

Tony blinked at the man. Memories were starting to soak in, like water into a sponge. "Steve?"

"Yeah!" Steve threw off the blanket and stood. "I'm Steve. Guess you do remember some of it."

Tony raked his eyes down over him. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but he was wearing pants, sadly. It was clear, even with them on, however, that this guy was ripped. And painfully kind. Who went all the way to a club to take care of some sloppy stranger? 

"I guess… thanks? Sorry I texted you. I deleted Ty's number from my phone but I always think I can remember it when I'm drunk. People don't normally text back."

"It's alright. I couldn't just leave you there alone. Uhh…" Steve wobbled back and forth a bit in indecision, then took a step closer. "Just so you know, there was a guy there with you when I found you. I didn't catch his name, but he was force-feeding you tequila."

"Ah." Tony shrugged. "It happens."

Steve's eyes went wide. "It  _ shouldn't."  _

"Whatever. The sad thing is that he didn't need to. I would've been down for whatever he wanted."

"Tony…"

"I should go. Thanks for the save. Your mattress is really comfy. But I should - uh - get out of your hair." Tony turned back to find his shoes, but Steve caught his arm gently then released it immediately.

"Breakfast?"

"What?"

"Do you want something? I was going to make eggs anyway. And then maybe you'll feel a bit better - I find food always helps - and you won't throw up in the Uber."

"Oh. Sure?" With a little food in him, Tony could probably make this whole thing worth Steve's while.

"Eggs are good?"

"Yeah, I like anything."

While Steve puttered around in the kitchen, Tony settled on a chair by the half-moon table against the wall and took in the apartment. "You have a roommate?"

"Yeah, Bucky. He's at work now."

"Ah, right." Tony pulled out his phone, and held his breath while he scrolled through their chat history from the night before. It was humiliating. "God, I was really annoying last night. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I could have blocked your number if I was that bothered. It was -" Steve paused so Tony looked over to see what had stalled him and noticed his cheeks were flushed pink. "- kinda fun," he finished. "I - uh - I had a bad break up last year and my friends have been trying to get me to have more fun since, and I haven't really been taking them seriously, but they were right."

"Probably you shouldn't have as much fun as me though," Tony grumbled. 

"I think there's a happy medium in here somewhere. Maybe." Steve scraped scrambled eggs onto two plates and carried them over to the table, sitting down next to Tony and sliding one over. 

"Thanks." Tony picked at it slowly at first, careful, but when his body responded positively, he started shoveling the eggs in.

"This is probably way too personal of a question, but why do you always try and text your ex when you get drunk?"

Tony shrugged. "I like to get laid when I'm wasted and he's a sure thing."

"Surely, you could just pick someone up. I feel like sleeping with your ex comes with baggage. Also - no offence, but he doesn't sound like a very nice person."

"Oh, he's not. He's a dick. But he's fantastic in bed, and at least I know what I'm getting into."

Steve fell silent, but Tony could feel waves of sad disapproval through the rest of their eggs. By the time Tony was finished, Steve had already pushed his cleaned plate aside. So Tony just stood, pressed forward into Steve's space, and kissed him.

Steve's hands snapped up to Tony's sides and gripped hard, pulling him close for half a heartbeat then easing him back. "What are you doing?" he murmured, eyes still closed.

"Rewarding you for being such a damn good Samaritan."

Steve's eyes popped open. "That's not why I did it."

"I know." Tony reached out and ran a finger along Steve's collarbone. "Doesn't mean you don't deserve a reward."

Tony could feel Steve's body reacting, leaning in, heating up, but Steve pushed him away with gentle hands. "It's alright, Tony. I'm not - That's not the kind of thing I'm looking for right now."

"Oh." Tony rocked back on his heels. He wasn't really sure how you went about looking for the other thing. He and Ty had met at a party, and slept together four times before they even talked about making it something exclusive. "Well. That's alright, I guess. I'm not feeling that sexy this morning, as it is." Tony brushed off his rumpled clothes, distinctly self-conscious. 

"I think you're extremely sexy," Steve murmured, pushing Tony's hair back with one hand. "Even with bed head." He smiled. "But I don't want you as a reward, or a thank you, or because you feel like you need to put out to make people want to spend time with you."

Tony wasn't really sure what to say to that. He hovered awkwardly in Steve's space for too long then stepped back briskly. "Okay. Well, suit yourself." He snapped a smile back in place. "Thanks, though, really. I can't remember the last time someone was that nice to me. But - I should go."

Steve's expression twisted strangely for a moment then straightened out into a matching smile. "Okay." 

Tony found his shoes and pulled them on while ordering an Uber, then met Steve at the door. "Bye. I guess."

"Bye. Be careful out at clubs - please?"

Tony smiled and shook his head. "Yeah, alright. Just for you."

"And, hey, maybe next time you text my number by mistake, you won't be quite so drunk. I liked talking to you."

"Me too. I mean, I liked talking to you. And that's, you know, kinda rare for me so - thanks. Again. For that. And the save. And the bed. And you slept on the couch which is like, really adorable or something…" Tony stared idly towards the bedroom then shook his head again, trying to loosen up strange thoughts that were piling on top of each other, and reached for the door. 

His phone buzzed with his arriving Uber and he reached out to shake Steve's hand, but Steve pulled him into a tight hug instead, lips against Tony's ear as he whispered, "Seriously, please be careful. You can text me any time you need a safe place to crash."

Tony didn't have time to say anything, he just let himself be bustled out the door and he ran down to the Uber. As they pulled away, he looked up at Steve's apartment building with something new and entirely unfamiliar blooming in his chest.

**

Steve looked out the window and watched Tony's car pull away. He barely knew the guy - it really shouldn't matter that he was leaving. If anything, it should be a relief. But instead, Steve's eyes couldn't seem to peel away from the corner where Tony had disappeared. He barely knew him, but something sizzled there. 

Something Steve hadn't felt in a long time.

He pulled out his phone to text Bucky something likely mopey enough that he'd get smacked for his trouble, but it started ringing in his hand before he finished typing. He stared at the number. Wasn't that -?

"Tony? What's wrong? Did you forget something?"

"Hey, Steve." Tony paused for a long time. "So. I was just thinking, how you said you liked talking to me, and I figured, you know, I'm sober now, and all that so maybe…"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe we could talk?"

Steve couldn't stop his grin, glad Tony couldn't see how goofy he must have looked. "I'd love that."

"Unless you're busy."

"I'm not busy." Steve flopped back on the couch and closed his eyes, letting everything become nothing but Tony's voice.

"I was thinking about what you said, about senseless sex not being what you were looking for right now. Or at least that's what I think you said."

"Yeah, that's what I meant," Steve said.

"I get that, you know. I know it seems like I don't, but I do. Maybe that's why I always go back to Ty. Even though it was a horrible relationship, it still was one."

"That makes sense. It really does."

"Rhodey hates Ty." Tony paused. "I think he'd like you, though."

"I hope so."

Tony paused again. "I like you."

"I like you too, Tony. A lot."

"Maybe I could call you again tomorrow."

Steve let out a slow, soft breath. "That would be really nice. Really nice. I hope you do."

He did.


End file.
